


All the Right Things

by HerBrazenElegance



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerBrazenElegance/pseuds/HerBrazenElegance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kadar opts for post-secondary education after moving in with his older brother and discovers some things he's not so sure about.</p><p>Update 2/9/14: How many months has it been. I don't know. I've become very distanced from the AC fandom over time, though, and I know nobody wants to hear it but I doubt this fic will be finished like I had said before. I'll still keep it online in case I do get the motivation to read it over and start again, but for the time being this is discontinued. I'm really sorry to disappoint, but all of my original inspiration for this story is pretty much gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There are a couple of things you learn when living with two very smart, very strong-minded men:

  1. Never try to argue with them (you’re wrong)
  2. Never try to interfere with an argument _between_ them (it’s none of your business)
  3. Never, under any circumstances, try to lie to either of them (it won’t work, and if it does work, they will fucking find you out eventually)



Kadar just wished he would have known these things sooner.

 

* * *

 

The first steps of a new experience are always difficult, and Kadar’s case was no exception. His father, Faheem, had kicked him out of the house not even twenty-four hours after graduating high school, told him to pack his ass and leave or he would do it himself – and he promised his son wouldn’t like the results. This wasn’t entirely unexpected of his father, who was a self-proclaimed asshole straight out of the U.S. Special Forces, but it did add a fair amount of unnecessary stress to the boy’s life. Luckily, Kadar had an older brother awaiting him with open arms (well, one arm) and an open bedroom – for rent, of course. Kadar had no qualms paying if it meant he had a place to stay that wasn’t cold and dangerous, and he was certain he could find another job to do so if he was persistent. So that was the easy part.

The awkwardness came with the first few hours of his initial move-in. His brother hadn’t actually been around the day he arrived due to his work schedule – Kadar already knew that oftentimes he was out for days on business and would turn up again without warning – and so he was left to figure much out on his own. Like getting the front door open, because Malik had neglected to give him a key or tell him where any spares were hidden.

After unloading his boxes and paying for his cab, Kadar kind of just stood there on the curb wondering what the hell to do. He would have called him for help, but he’d never been the type to carry a cell phone, so that option was out unless he wanted to take his chances with the neighbors. He supposed he could poke around the front door and look like a giant creep trying to find wherever a spare was, assuming there even was one. He didn’t exactly consider his older brother a forgetful person. But just as Kadar began to move toward the small house and begin his search, he heard the lock click and the door swung open.

“Hey,” the man on the other side said.

“Hi,” Kadar said, though it was more like a question. He didn’t think anyone else would have been there, although now that he thought about it, it was probably wise of Malik to let someone watch his house while he was away. Or maybe he was a roommate. Wait a second, who was this guy?

“You Malik’s brother?” The man asked.

“Uh, yeah, Kadar,” he answered. “Are you a friend or something?”

“You could say that,” the man said, smiling in way that Kadar knew meant he was hiding something. He left it alone for now – Kadar was too tired from travelling and all he wanted to do was get his stuff put in the room so he could lie on the couch for a while and do nothing. As if reading his thoughts, the man pointed at his boxes still on the curb.

“Do you want help moving that in before something gets stolen?”

Kadar ran his hand through his hair and looked behind himself, muttering, “I thought this was supposed to be a safe neighborhood.” The man laughed.

“You never know. There are crazies in some unexpected places. Anyway, help or no?”

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The man strolled right past him and Kadar had to resist inhaling a little bit to catch whatever scent he might be wearing. He was hot, okay. Kadar might not have always been loud and proud about who he was interested in, especially when it came to other guys, but he definitely wouldn’t have minded being caught with someone like this. Seriously, who wears nice, crisp pinstripe button-ups casually around the house? _Alone?_ Maybe he caught the guy right in the middle of dress-up.

“So you never told me your name,” Kadar pointed out as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway and carried the last box down the hallway after him.

“Altaïr,” he said.

“Have you been here long?”

“About a month or so.”

“My brother obviously trusts you a lot to let you stay here alone. I don’t remember him ever having a lot of friends that he would put that much faith in.”

“Really?” Altaïr said with zero enthusiasm. “That’s good to know. Here’s where you’ll be sleeping.”

There was a quiet moment after Altaïr opened the door to what would be Kadar’s room, but only enough to let the boy take in some of the proportions.

“Do you have your own room?”

“No,” Altaïr answered. “I’m usually on the couch. Or the doghouse,” he muttered. “And before you ask: I’m 28, my birthday was five months ago, I’m an engineer, I don’t have any other family,” he paused and set the box down, “and yeah, I like cats I guess.”

Kadar laughed. Well, he killed that conversation fast. But there was one more question he forgot.

“So you’re single then?” Kadar inquired, sitting on top of one of his boxes now. Altaïr made a face and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up, kid. I’m into older guys.”

Kadar wasn’t surprised by his forthrightness by now and put his hands up defensively. Fair enough.

“Just curious. I’m all out of questions for now.”

“’For now’ sounds ominous,” Altaïr teased. “I’ll be sure to prepare myself for another an interrogation later. In the meantime, I’ll let you get your stuff unpacked. Welcome…home, I guess.” And he left.

Kadar wrung his hands and took a real look at his new bare-bones bedroom. White walls, white carpet, naked white mattress, white closet doors likely with some bleached hangers and a white dresser inside. The only color in the room was coming from himself and the clothes on his back, with a slight greenish hue through the window from the trees outside. This end of the house had a look more akin to that of a hospital recovery ward rather than a bedroom. Not exactly a welcoming place yet.

He puffed out his cheeks a bit and exhaled. He hadn’t forgotten his plans from before about lying on the couch and being 0% productive, but after the conversation with the new guy he was a little more concerned about making things awkward between them. He’d expected to have free run of the house, barring drinking any alcohol hidden away, and here this fucker was being kind of weird and standoffish but hey, he offered help and dresses all snappy and probably smells nice so maybe he isn’t all that bad.

But he couldn’t sit on a box all day deliberating, especially since he didn’t know what was under him and in all likelihood he was crushing it irreparably because that was just his luck. So he stood, as much as he was reluctant to do so, and began an arduous battle of torn tape, sliced skin, and a lot of learning.


	2. Chapter 2

Kadar turned off the light and went down the hallway. It was far later in the day than he expected, but he’d settled in and had most of his belongings organized, adding new life to his hospital bedroom that it was once lacking. He also expected that once he had finished there would be some sense of relief, but it was minor. There was, instead, a much stronger sense of exhaustion and a nagging ache in his stomach from not eating since before he arrived, which was now at the top of his priority list.

The living room and kitchen were both very open areas with no distinct separation other than a line where the floor switched from carpet to linoleum. The living room consisted of a fairly large and expensive-looking television (which was, knowing his penny-pinching brother, the only piece in the whole building that Malik actually splurged on), a recliner, and a large couch which was currently occupied by Altaïr rolling his eyes at what looked like a history program about early Americans.

Kadar had to fight the ridiculous urge to tip-toe behind the sofa on his way to the kitchen in order not to disturb him. It was weird how much of a guest he felt here, like he would only be saying for a couple of weeks rather than months or possibly a year. Maybe even longer than that, but neither of the brothers wanted to plan that far in the future. Whatever ended up happening, he would be here a long while, meaning he would share a lot of the same space as Altaïr and if they weren’t at least semi-okay with each other there were going to be more than a few issues.

Altaïr shifted his position and reached for the end table, catching Kadar prowling about in the process.

“Oh good, you’re done,” he said, turning his attention back to the TV after finding the remote. “I left some stuff on the stove if you’re hungry.”

“You cook?” Kadar asked.

“I cook,” he answered matter-of-factly. “How else would I stay alive around here?”

“But are you any good at it?”

“You will find out, won’t you?”

Kadar smiled to himself. Where had he heard that kind of attitude before? It was no wonder Malik chose Altaïr as a housemate – he already noticed that they had very similar brands of humor. It would have made him miss his older brother more if he didn’t also remember the times Malik’s sass had annoyed the hell out of him when they were both living with their father.

The kitchen was as immaculate as Kadar had imagined it would be, save for what Altaïr left in the pot over the stove. He peered inside and stood there for a moment, not really certain about how he should feel. It was macaroni, the plain, straight out of a blue box kind, which was great and delicious and Kadar couldn’t deny that, but for some reason he had hoped a guy ten years his senior would be at least a slightly better cook than himself. He did say he was an engineer, though, not a chef. And in any case Kadar was ravenous, and it hardly mattered to him or his stomach what he put in it, so he filled a bowl and took it to the living room. Altaïr shot a curious look at him when he sat down on the other end of the couch.

 “What?” Kadar asked.

“You know Malik would beat you for that, right?”

“For sitting?”

“For eating on the carpet,” Altaïr clarified, to which Kadar snorted.

“Maybe he’d beat _you_ for it. I’m not some kind of animal slob.” Kadar met his gaze and stuffed his mouth with noodles. Altaïr wasn’t sure how to take that and ended up focusing on the TV again.

“You really are Malik’s brother,” he said, trying not to grin.

“The one and only.”

There was a short period of silence between them while Kadar finished his meal, which the history program filled by droning on about Christopher Columbus and his world-changing discovery. Altaïr laughed softly a few times, each one making Kadar more curious as to what was so funny about dominating and killing Native Americans and people, regardless of skin tone, dying from starvation and disease.

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Altaïr muttered.

“Why don’t you change the channel, then?” Kadar suggested. He had little interest in it anyway.

“Because it’s crap,” he replied. “There are so many people who still believe this Columbus guy was a great man and made this incredible journey, and he sure did, but he went about colonizing in the worst way and abused the native people like they were dogs – lower than dogs, even. He was a rapist and cruel and a brutal, senseless murderer and –“

“Weren’t a lot of people in power that way back then, though?” Kadar interjected.

“Some people still are,” Altaïr said. “But my point is that this guy got away with it and is _praised_ for it, even until now where there’s a damn holiday named after him.”

Kadar didn’t know how to respond to that, thinking Altaïr was just getting weirdly aggressive, and the older man took notice.

“I’m passionate about history – the true stories, not the junk that’s barely touched on in high school textbooks,” he said more calmly. “Maybe when you start your classes you’ll get your eyes opened to some of the crazy things that get swept under the rug like they’re no big deal.”

Kadar opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a furry creature taking that moment to jump into his lap. The cat didn’t even bother going through the usual animal formalities of sniffing or rubbing against him before it had its head poking at his empty bowl.

“When did Malik get a cat?” Kadar asked, lifting the dish out of its reach.

“She’s mine,” Altaïr said. “He let me bring her when I moved in, as if there was much of an option. I wouldn’t leave her behind.”

“Is she hungry or something? This is getting a little invasive,” Kadar said, lifting the bowl even higher and having to move his head being as she now had her paws on his chest and was climbing further still.

“She’s fine,” Altaïr replied. He reached over and stole her from the boy’s lap. “She’s just nosy.” The cat was reluctant to give up an opportunity at stealing free human food, but after a moment or two of petting she settled into Altaïr’s arms and began to purr. The sight might have made Kadar’s mini crush on him worse.

“She doesn’t usually do that,” Altaïr commented. “Not with strangers, anyway. It took her a while to be comfortable enough with Malik to start getting in his face about things.”

“Good to know that the cat likes me already.”

“Or she just knows that she can take advantage of you.” Altaïr gave him a playful look and wow – that was not okay. Kadar couldn’t keep his eyes on him without blushing when he did that. Also good to know.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Kadar said, staring at the animal who was no longer paying him any mind. “I don’t need you giving me any more hell than I’m preparing for, cat.”

“Adha,” Altaïr said. “Show some respect. She’s got feelings too.”

“Adha,” he corrected.

The bowl was starting to become an annoying weight in his hand, so Kadar stood up to take care of the kitchen. His worries from before, of not being able to get along with Altaïr, had faded, although he still felt a bit awkward thanks to his little crush. It made him feel incredibly dumb, especially since he had already been rejected, and he tried to talk himself down in his head basically the entire time he was organizing his room, but obviously their recent interaction had shown how much effect doing that had had. It was something he would have to get over with time, he decided, secretly hoping that maybe Altaïr would have some kind of disgusting or otherwise negative habits that would turn him off.

Kadar had just finished rinsing out the pot and leaned in to turn off the faucet when Altaïr placed his hand on the boy’s chest and got between him and the sink.

“Sorry. There’s one more,” he said, holding up his own used dishes. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh,” Kadar responded smartly as he backed away. “Alright then.” He looked around anxiously from where he was for a clock and chose to go to bed despite the fact that it was barely nine at night.

“Are you sure?” Altaïr said. “You don’t even have school anymore.”

“Yeah, but you know, it’s been a long day and stuff, jet lag – or cab lag, I guess.” Kadar fumbled for excuses. “And I want to stay on my sleep schedule. I’m thinking about job hunting tomorrow, so I’ll probably need energy to run around.”

“I see,” Altaïr responded simply and without any emotion. He turned off the sink and turned to the boy.

“I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“What? No,” Kadar said, put off by the suddenness of the question. “No, not really.” Probably not on purpose, at least.

“I know I can be a little intense for some people,” Altaïr went on. “I just want to make sure you aren’t intimidated or mad at me if I offended you somehow or anything like that. Normally I wouldn’t really care, but we’re going to be living together for a while, so I want things to be okay between us. Malik would be pissed if he had to kick one of us out because we couldn’t get along,” he added, “and since you’re his brother and don’t really have anywhere to go, I’m pretty sure he’d be more inclined to send me back to my apartment.”

Kadar was put at ease knowing that Altaïr was just as concerned about their relationship as he was and replied a little more honestly.

“I do feel kind of odd here, but I think it’s mostly because of all of this…crap…that I’m being thrown into right now. I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I haven’t seen my brother in a few years so it’s strange being in his house without him, and I miss him on top of it, and…yeah.” Kadar paused. “Do you know when he’ll be back, by the way?”

Altaïr shrugged and leaned against the counter.

“Sometime soon. It could be anywhere from tomorrow to a week from now, though. I’d give him a call and ask, but I try not to bother him unless he’s the one trying to get in contact.”

“Right,” Kadar sighed. “Well, I hope it’s sooner rather than later.”

“You and me both.”

They caught each other’s gazes and held for a moment, both of them knowing the question Kadar wanted to ask, but Altaïr beat him at opening his mouth.

“No, don’t even go there. You don’t want to know.”

“Can I just guess?” Kadar insisted.

“No. Keep it in your head.”

“But it’s not even that big of a deal.” And it really wasn’t. Part of him might have been jealous if they were together, but he was more excited about the fact that his older brother might have been gay as hell his whole life and he never knew.

“No, I’m not answering that one.” Altaïr moved past Kadar toward the couch.

“I’ll just ask Malik when he gets back.”

“Go for it. He’ll tell you to fuck off.” Altaïr plopped on the couch, refusing to look at the boy. Kadar laughed at him.

“I think you’re overcompensating.”

“Suck it.”

“I knew it!” Kadar trotted over to him.

“Didn’t you say you were going to bed?” Altaïr tried to change the subject, still refusing to look Kadar in the face even though he was obviously smiling. The boy completely ignored his question.

“How long have you guys been a thing?”

“Get out of here.”

“It must be pretty serious if you’re living with him.”

“Go to bed.”

“Don’t tell me what to do; I’m eighteen.” Altaïr laughed at that.

“Then don’t ask me personal questions; I’m twenty-eight.”

“But I need to know, come on.”

“Do we need to take this outside?”

“What happened to getting along and not getting kicked out?”

“That went away when you started being annoying as fuck.”

“Are you really not going to tell me anything?”

Altaïr sighed and rubbed his forehead in mock irritation. Then he leaned back and looked, upside-down, at Kadar standing over the couch behind him.

“Okay, I told you Malik’s going to be home soon,” Altaïr began. “You can try to ask him or whatever, but once he’s here you’re going to see how things work anyway. So have some patience and use your brain a little bit and you’ll figure it out. As if it’s any of your business.”

Kadar was quiet while he thought of what to say, staring back at Altaïr indignantly. He leaned in just a little bit closer to his face just to be stubborn, then whispered:

“You are so gay for my brother.”

Altaïr closed his eyes for a long time and looked very calm. Suddenly, he stood up from the couch, almost smacking his forehead against Kadar’s in the process.

“I need to smoke,” was all he said, and then he made for the back door through the kitchen.

Kadar pouted a little bit when he was left alone. He couldn’t tell if Altaïr was really mad or just trying to avoid him again – maybe both, probably both – but he chose not to harass him any further. He finally headed to his room for rest, where he found Adha curled into a fluffy ball in the middle of his bed.

“Move, kitty,” he said. No response.

“Get up,” he said louder. “I don’t like sharing my bed.” The cat continued to sleep.

“Mooovvveee, I want to go to sleep,” he groaned, taking the edge of his top blanket and lifting it under her. She awoke slowly, not bothered in the least by his antics, and made a show of removing herself from the bed.

“Was that payback for annoying your daddy?” He asked her pointlessly as she sauntered out of the room. Then he stripped down to what he normally slept in, hit the light switch, and crawled between the sheets. He tried not to think too much about possibly pissing Altaïr off, but it did make him a little guilty. Figures that he would do the exact opposite of what he’d intended. He told himself he would say less tomorrow, and fell asleep hopeful about seeing Malik again.

 

* * *

Adha lifted her head when the couch cushions shifted with Altaïr’s weight. She stared at him for a long while before yawning and sniffing at him gently. She growled.

“I know,” Altaïr said. “You don’t like me when I smoke.” He put his hand out to pet her in apology, but she flinched and hissed at him. She jumped off the couch.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

Adha padded down the hallway until she was in Kadar’s room again. He slept soundly. She was careful anyway as she leapt onto the bed. She waited before moving closer to him, then, when she was right next to his face, turned and lay against him with her tail end near his chin. She purred until she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long and boring chapter, whoops.


End file.
